


Stars and Candles

by moonsandstar_s



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsandstar_s/pseuds/moonsandstar_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never really your intention to fall in love, not like this. But around her, all your intentions seem to be nothing, and she's the spark in your chest, a light, and suddenly, intention doesn't matter anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

Winter has always been too cold at Silas University.

Frigid wind bites across my shoulders, winding through tied up, honey colored hair as I curl forward my shoulders and hurry through the screeching wind. I really shouldn't be out in the snowstorms sweeping through our tristate right now, but did Carmilla care about that? No, of course not.

Great elms bow and sway in the gale, branches creaking and groaning as flakes of snow flurry down and dust icily over the ground. The pulsing thrum and roar of rushing cars from a nearby interstate makes its way to my ears, the normally bustling sound diminished by the severity of the weather.

I hate the cold. Always have, in fact— What wouldn't I give to be basking on a beach in some covert place, with dappling sun and lapping waves? But no; instead, I'm here in the cold night, hurrying back to my dorm on a Friday. My fingers burn as they tighten around a dark, bitter black coffee, the other hand curled inside my jacket, trying to retain what little warmth resides in the worn cloth.

I sigh a breath that clouds out in an opaque puff of air and rattles, shuddering, through my ribs as my hands wrap around a steaming thermos of espresso coffee, the steam clouding up and instantly dying in the snowy air. The moon is shrouded over with ragged gray clouds, stars winking and blinking behind the wind-torn night sky. I can feel the numbness the frigid air is causing as I wiggle my toes.

"Laura!"

I halt, cold immediately seeping through old sneakers, eyes darting around as a shout comes from ahead. My head tilts to the side as I take a few more steps so my feet don't stick to the sidewalk, until I'm sheltered minimally from the harsh weather by the Silas University front doors, the gleaming mahogany dark in the shadowy half light. A soft smile flickers across my cold cheeks as a tall figure emerges from the right side of the Silas bus stop, red hair flecked over with snowflakes, like she's been dunked in powdered sugar.

"What are you doing outside in this weather, Danny?" I chuckle as my friend and the Silas TA approaches, shaking the ice and snow from her hair much like a dog would. A lopsided grin makes its way onto the redhead's face as she opens the door for me, eyes smoky with blurred mascara.

"I could ask you the same."

I sigh a little as the door shuts, warmth instantly penetrating the cold jacket and loosening my tense form. My brows slant in a frown, creasing together as I shrug slightly. "Carmilla said she was craving a straight black coffee. So being the amazing roommate I am, I went to the Starbucks a block away and bought one. I figured…" I bite my lower lip indecisively, tugging it up. "I mean, it was the least I could do in return for her."

Danny frowns as we mount the stairwell, her hand pausing on the dusty rail, snow melting in her hair and tangling it in little wet streaks. "In return?" She's struggling not to roll her eyes, I can tell, but a worried frown furrows her brows as they dip over her nose. "What has the vampire ever done for you?"

I roll my eyes, a sudden desire to defend my apathetic roommate blossoming somewhere inside of me. "It's Carmilla," I quip, trying to sound light hearted, an askew, albeit slightly frustrated, smile on my face. "And she hasn't eaten me or, y'know, sucked up my blood like a Slurpee yet. And she's technically the only thing keeping me alive from the 'Dean of Students'… a.k.a her evil mom. The least I could do was get the girl a latte."

Danny grumbles. "I don't trust her."

"Well, of course you don't, she's a vampire. And she did threaten to rip out your spine only days ago." I murmur ruefully as we climb the steep stairs, the low rumble of noise of other dorms floating down the stairwell. "But… I trust her."

Danny scowls, her face darkening as a thunderous look appears in her eyes. "You're crazy."

"Not crazy," I sigh regretfully, "Just highly nervous, slightly paranoid, and—"

"Crazy. Totally. Don't think you're not, Hollis." Danny's eyes twinkle as we reach the third floor, dorm room 307. 

"Well," she says, clasping her hands and fisting one in the damp cloth of her plaid shirt, the top button rumpled as she bows her head. Red hair shadows over her jaw, gray patches crawling over her skin as she smiles slightly at me. "I'm off to bed. Try not to get eaten like a Slurpee, hey?"

"No guarantees," I say lightly, before bidding her good night. She disappears down the hall, feet softly whispering against the age old, drink stained carpet.

I pull out a tarnished, gently gleaming bronze key and twist it inside, the lock clicking faintly as the door swings open. A blast of warm air and a saccharine, chocolate cookie smell greets me, faintly tinged with the coppery, metallic scent of blood. It's something I've gotten used to. Just so long as it doesn't get too strong.

Carmilla is on her bed, my pillow clamped under a pale arm and spilling out on either side, the sunny yellow sharply contrasting the winding strands of dark hair that splay across it in a black, intricate pattern. Her face looks less sharp, more open— almost peaceful— in sleep and I pause by the doorframe, eyes studying the gentle curve of her neck, the way her eyelashes fan out and flutter as she breathes evenly.

I've been doing that lately. Looking closer, at the details that make her— well, her. I don't know why.

I gently shut the door as so not to wake her, the dim light from the hall vanishing, as I click on the lamp. It spills over, casting buttery colors over the rumpled comforter of my bed and dappling shadow of Carmilla's face. As I shift a glance at her, she stretches and yawns, an arm extending out as she strains upward. A bleary eye cracks open and I can't hide a smile as she groans and drops back on the bed, springs creaking under the weight. "Oh, great, you're here, buttercup." Her voice is snarky and she leans forward, pale, bare shoulders white against her dark hair and eyes like thick, black coffee— untainted by any hint of light, the darkest brown.

"Try not to sound too excited," I grumble sarcastically before making my way to the old armchair positioned in front of my laptop. The faint squeak of the bed coupled with a soft thud announces that my roommate has finally gotten up from her daylong sleep, and she approaches from behind, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. I notice— irately so, at myself for noticing it at all— that her eyelashes clump together, matted, adding to her dark looks even more so.

"Where've you been, cupcake?" She wiggles a dark eyebrow, the other dipping downward in a wayward smirk. "Why are there snowflakes in your hair?" Her hand brushes across my hair draped damp across my collarbone and I suppress a shiver at her touch, before I turn to point at the still-steaming latte that rests on the counter.

"Getting that for you—like you asked me to— and it's snowing pretty hard outside. Figures."

She silently pads across to pick up the espresso, raising to her lips and sipping delicately before she sets it back down. "Not bad. It reminds me of one I had a party many years ago."

Once again, I'm forcibly reminded of just how old she is.

Old, that's not the word. Timeless. That's it. She's timeless. Immortal. And for some reason, that barbs, digging under my skin.

Honestly, even I myself am not sure of what's causing me to feel so down.

"Well, it is from a run of the mill Starbucks." I give a smile that feels more like a grimace, the corner of my mouth curving upward as I duck my head and power on the silver chrome laptop. Evidently, Carmilla can sense my bad mood, because she cocks her head, quirking an eyebrow and giving me a concerned look. "Something bothering you?"

"No," I lie, the words bitter on my tongue as I spit them out and type in my password. The words click across the screen, a solitary line of black orbs that disappear as the screen glows and hums to life, the desktop popping up. I'm aware of Carmilla's querying gaze on my back.

"I've been alive long enough to know when someone is lying to me." Her words are quiet, solemn, almost grieved, and as I flick a glance behind me, her chest struggles to rise and fall with breath, her knuckles whitening where they clench on top of the counter. "So again, sundance. What's wrong?"

I spin in my chair, gnawing the white flecked nail of my thumb, my heart fluttering like a caged bird. Carmilla's eyes rest— almost black in the faint light— on me as she crosses slender arms over her chest and shoots me a look.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully, cause really, I don't know what's bothering me. Or why the fact that Carmilla's only wearing a thin black tank is distracting me. Or why my eyes keeping getting caught on minute details.

Hell and Hogwarts! I really do have a legitimate crush on her.

"What the frilly hell does that mean?" she snorts, slamming the coffee back down. It sprays out in a little shimmering arc of black, hitting the counter as she gives me a confused look.

"Uh—I, er, you see— uh, forget it," I stammer, face searing in a hot blush. I'm simply sure my face is glowing red so that she can see; my earlobes are hot and I swallow. "It's nothing."

"Mhm," she says in a disbelieving tone before reaching over, snatching up my pillow from the floor, and plopping on my bed.

"You're not going out?" I cock an eyebrow at her as she shoves an arm under my pillow and buries her face in it, one leg dangling off the bed.

"No."

"Why not?" I sigh a little, fingers brushing over the cold, raised keys of the laptop, heart flipping in my chest as she looks up from hooded, smoky eyes.

"Because clearly you're feeling off. And it irritates me when you aren't your usual bright, exasperating self. So, I'm staying here so you don't do anything dramatic." She raises an eyebrow and it hits me that this her way of showing that she genuinely is worried for me.

Maybe that's why she's protected me this long.

"Okay," I sigh, swiveling back to computer. The screen casts silver light, playing around my fingers, and I pull up the camcorder app. After about five minutes, I'm just not feeling it, and I grind my teeth so hard it's a wonder they haven't been crushed to dust.

Suddenly I'm shaking, bowed, as it all comes crashing down. My position. Where I am.

I'm a nineteen year old girl living with a vampire and waiting to be sprung and caught. I'm basically waiting for death. Or worse.

I don't realize I'm crying until I touch a trembling hand to my face and feel my cheeks are wet, striped with tears.

"Good Lord, creampuff, are you alright?"

I shake my head erratically before slumping to the floor as something tightens like a bowstring within, clenching and breaking. My heart gives a vicious cry as I hear her footsteps before she's there, beside me, one arm slipping over my shoulder as she places a hand, slowly drawing circles on my back.

Her body fits next to mine, perfectly, her skin warm against mine. Her hand softly strokes my hair as I choke on my sobs, her breath soft against my cheek as she breathes against me. She's surprisingly soft and warm, all planes and angles, free flowing, where I had expected her to be hard and unfeeling. She murmurs condolences in my ears, pressing against me, arm wrapped around my shuddering ribs.

"I want to go home," I choke out into her sleeve.

"I'll protect you." Her voice is sorrowful and maybe she knows that's not a promise she can keep. "I'll do all I can."


	2. Chapter II

CHAPTER TWO

Ω~CARMILLA~Ω  
Sometimes she can be so goddamn infuriating.

I twirl a slab of dark chocolate under pale fingers, breath rasping out as I look at her. The moonlight shafts silver, streaming down through the curtained window to light her face. Shadows stretch across her honey hair and her eyelashes flutter as she sleeps, a frown twitching at the corners of her mouth as her face flickers in sleep.

I wonder what she's dreaming about.

I remember hours before, where she had come in, her eyes avoiding mine and her hands twisting in the hem of her shirt. She does that when she's nervous or sad. I've noticed quite a bit indeed about Laura in these past weeks, however much I don't want to.

I've noticed how I feel drawn to her.

Like I said, infuriating. Exasperating. Irritating. Laura Hollis is all of those things, but there's absolutely no denying there's something about her that weakens me and makes me feel things I've never felt before.

And I've never been one for it, but I could swear I'm falling for her, inexplicably— sing-song Laura Hollis with her too big heart and brown eyes and her acceptance of the monster I am, reckless and a rule stickler and a nag, but God only knows she's also genuine.

I let the chocolate melt on my tongue, sweet, saccharine flavor rolling down my throat as I graze soft eyes over her curled form, hair rumpled, haloing around her head. I take small, swift steps toward her, my hand grazing across her cheek as I study her face, hand cupping her face as my thumb swipes over her delicately slanted cheekbones.

And I'll be damned if I haven't noticed how beautiful she is. Because, God, she's got long golden lashes that barely brush her soft eyebrows, her cheeks are soft and full, her hair is thick and lustrous—

Dangerous. Every nerve in my body is firing, telling me to step away.

Instead I step closer, leaning over her, eyes narrowing to black slits in the scarce moonlight. I've had first experience on ignoring one's gut instincts; it usually ends up worse than before. My tongue passes over my lower lip as I study her. Her expression changes and I can tell she's dreaming. First her mouth thins out, dipping quickly in a wavering frown, eyebrows quivering and lashes twitching. Then her lips part (I shouldn't notice how full they are or how they shine in the silver starlight) and press together, crows feet crinkling the edges of her eyes in a miserable expression.

I spin quickly on one heel and walk away, leaning against the windowsill, eyes straining outward as a long breath rattles my ribs. The glowing lights of Silas obliterate the beauty of the night sky, thick snow clouds screening the moon as flurries spiral through the gusty night. I dig the heel of my hand in between my brows, a headache suddenly pulsing behind the skin, shivers running up my spine as I wrench open the window.

A blast of icy wind hits me, fluffy, frigid flakes whirling in and instantly melting against my skin. The cold feels good and my nails carve little crescents into my arm, the skin whitening around black nails as I draw them away and shut the window before the snow can wet the carpet.

"Carmilla?"

I turn and swear internally as I see Laura sitting up, eyes wide as moons in the dim light, her hands clutching the covers drawn up around her. "What are you still doing up?"

I shrug, jerking one shoulder up as nonchalantly as I can. The rest of my body is pulsing with heat as I look at her. I keep my voice low, smooth, charismatic. "Couldn't sleep, cupcake."

Her brow furrows and she squints at the clock on the wall. "It's three in the morning." A wide, jaw gaped yawn breaks off her sentence, her nose scrunching up as she shivers. "Go to sleep, Carm."

I roll my eyes and toss the chocolate bar wrapper on the floor; the black paper rustles as it hits the tile and Laura makes an indignant noise in the back of her throat. I give her a pointed look before pulling myself onto the counter, legs crossed and dangling over. "I'm a vampire, you dimwit." A small smile works on my lips despite how rueful I'm feeling. "I don't sleep at night."

She grumbles again, yawning, before slouching back onto her bed and closing her eyes. "Try not to blow up the dorm while I sleep," she mumbles, and then she's out.

I fold my arms over my chest, and I stay there all night— watching her, which sounds like some sort of assailant. But I can't help how… endearing she is, in her lackwit way. And genuinely caring.

And dammit, she's just like Elle, but even more so. She riles me.

I've been alive centuries. I can pick up emotions better than anything— a shift of eyes, a short sigh, the sleight of her hands— all of those were blaring signs to me. I'm no idiot— I could see, clear as day, her reactions whenever I made a passing sultry comment, anything. She would blush, cheeks burning the palest pink, hands twisting her lap.

The sun soon rises, hours winging by on black wings. My eyes shift to the window, and I see pale stars winking out in the navy sky, streaked with gray clouds. Everything is covered in white drifts, and snow is still flurrying down, blowing against the window and frosting it an opaque gray that ices against my fingers coldly. I clench my jaw as my eyes dart down to a figure struggling through the snow outside.

It's Will.

I can pick out details with my sharp vision from here— the shadowy bruise on his jaw, the way his dark eyes are hard as black metal, the snow flecking his black hair in startling contrast. There's a triumphant look that twists his face in a leer and that can only lead to one conclusion, one that makes my heart beat louder in my ears.

He must have gone to Mother and ratted me out.

Dammit.

I'm unaware of my fists clenching, digging into cold skin as I control my breath and slam the curtains over the window. If she comes for me, it will all come crashing down. She'll force me back into the coffin under the earth, and she'll never let me out, and she'll kill Laura slowly and excruciatingly—

Surprisingly, it's the last one that makes me the sickest of all, makes my stomach churn, something coiling tightly inside me. I gasp a shuddering breath before steeling myself and making my way to Laura's bed, gently shaking her awake. She mumbles something in her sleep, rolling over and pulling the pillow closer to her, hair fanning out in a dull honey color. I shake her rougher, and her eyes snap open, the chocolate brown irises locking onto mine. She smiles a little and sits up with a yawn. "What?"

"I think…" My mouth feels too dry, crawling with a bitter taste, and my stomach is lurching and God, why is this happening? "I think Mother is coming."

Instantly all the signs of sleep are wiped from her face to be replaced with panic, dread, and heartbreak. "No! No, no, no… this is not good!"

"I saw Will walking back from her office."

My heart feels like it's being crushed under a scaffold of darkness (God, how cliche) as I look at her.

I won't lose Laura. I can not be loved back. I can be just her friend. I can be a monster.

But I will not lose her, or I will lose myself.


End file.
